


The Heart Wants What it Wants

by Scriptor



Series: Push and Pull [4]
Category: WWE, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M, Masturbation in Shower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 21:58:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9461942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scriptor/pseuds/Scriptor
Summary: AJ's trying to sort through the shitstorm that is his affair with Ambrose





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm well aware that this creature has turned into more of a chapter-type linear story but I still like the idea of a series so I'm leaving it. Anyway, thanks for reading. Y'all folks in this little corner of the world who enjoy Stylbrose are special.

AJ’s triceps burned at the same time as they felt nearly depleted. He’d been in the gym for well over two hours and was finishing with some overhead barbell extensions. Every time he thought he might throw in the towel, he added more weight, just a few more reps. Music was being injected straight into his brain matter; he had it so damn loud. Sweating, hurting, working his muscles to exhaustion was better than thinking. Anything but thinking about the slight quiver in Dean’s bottom lip; the pleading sort of desperate need broadcast clear as day in his gorgeous blue eyes. AJ didn’t want to think too deeply about what this all meant because his hard and fast rule was that he’d take on subs and it was a game; absolutely nothing beyond. It was a contract. It was similar to facing an opponent in the ring. You were in a program until it didn’t work anymore or until it was finished and then you moved on. BUT, he’d said it himself just last week: he couldn’t stop thinking about Dean. AJ, not one to let go of his control, was admitting, somewhere deep down, that he was having a conflict between how he liked to run his life and how he truly felt.

He reracked the weights and wiped sweat from his forehead with an old towel. There didn't appear to be any other talent at this particular gym; he had made sure that was the case by purposely picking the Gold’s on the very edge of town. His thighs were trembling and his abs ached, a deep down core pain that signified having overworked. But this was good. This was for a reason. He liked having reasons, justifications. There was no rhyme or reason to this Dean thing; not at all. It really made no sense. He tried to rationalized it and reason it out in his mind like some kind of plug and play formula. _If this, then that_. But no. This was something intangible and other-worldly and the WHY evaded him.

AJ opened the lid to his Gatorade and chugged until his thirst was quenched but his stomach felt sloshy and queasy. Time for some food and a beer or four. As he threw shit into his bag and started for the door, his eyes landed on a sliver of familiarity; just a turned back, mostly hidden behind a large mirrored wall near the bathrooms. But he recognized those calves, that tiny waist, the messy hair. Even just a portion of that view struck in him a chord that made his heart feel like Braun Strowman was squeezing it in his giant fist. _Dean._

So the question became: leave now like a coward – run from the feelings – or mosey over and talk to him. Every red light was going off in his brain – _do not engage!_ \- but his heart told him otherwise. Shuffling on his feet in the moment of decision, he went ahead and approached, noticing who Dean was talking to and stepping back to camp out near the ergs. Raw and Smackdown were in the same town that week so of course it made sense that Dean would seek his pre-draft friends. Roman was stacking weights onto a leg machine and Dean casually chatted. Because he hadn’t notice AJ behind him, this was his chance to eavesdrop.

“How you been doin’?” Roman asked before assuming his position on the bench.

“Yeah, good. You know, doin’ my thing,”

“I hear you." Roman said, taking a second to pump more weight with both legs. Letting down the enormous weight he started again, “You seem kinda happy. You seein’ somebody?”

“Well, kinda.”

“Yeah? She nice? She hot?” Roman pressed.

“Heh heh yeah he’s – I mean, yeah she’s somethin’ else.” The large stack of weights Roman had been pressing seemed to clank to a halt at Dean’s fumble. “I mean, I really think we might be working out.” Dean told him.

AJ shifted himself further behind in case either of them were to notice his presence. Had Dean meant him? He wanted to find out but also didn’t need to get caught so he high-tailed it out to his car as inconspicuously as possible and headed back to the hotel.

AJ’s heart was racing like he’d run five miles and he nearly slapped himself for acting so ridiculous. But hearing Dean’s slip-up was a wake-up call. AJ _thought_ Dean was falling harder. He saw the multiple texts, the reasons to meet up, that fucking puppy dog face he gave him the other night. And if AJ wanted to be honest with himself – which he pretty much did **not** – he was goddamn afraid that he was crossing over that line. They were no longer playing a game, were they? This was no cursory affair. Dean was developing feelings, wasn’t he? AJ fucking knew it. He pressed the Challenger to explore its true potential as he merged onto the 110 and GPSd his location.

AJ turned on the shower to about as hot as he could possibly handle and tried to burn the memory of Dean right out of his brain. But he couldn’t. Under the hot spray, he soaped up and had an idea. Maybe if he found some kind of release… yeah, that was it. He hadn’t gotten off in a couple weeks – not since the second time Dean had given him the most amazing blow job of his life. Could be his mind was just clouded. Yes, that was clearly the reason for this feeling. His mind was spinning a million miles an hour, thoughts firing left and right. As he allowed his hand to drift further down his body, he couldn’t help but imagine how pliant Dean had been in his lap, taking his punishment like a good boy. How pretty his ass looked all pink and raw. AJ’s cock was damn hard by this point and he began working it in earnest. In the initial contact he felt relief but as he tried to find a natural high from the act, he realized that it just didn’t feel quite right. It was time for some self honesty; the shower stall filled with steam and in his hazy mid-jerk fog, he just wanted it to be Dean’s hand. He realized that he felt something more for Dean than just wanting to use him for power games. Yes, he wanted to dominate him too but the clench in his heart every time he saw the man told AJ otherwise.

He was still stroking but it was unfulfilling as all hell. “Fuck it.” He muttered and rinsed off. Soon as his hands were dry, he padded out to the other room, towel around his waist, and grabbed his phone.

“Hey, wanna meet up? There’s a bar downtown called The Londoner. Looked like a cool place.”

AJ hit send and plopped down on the bed to wait, his heart pounding with anticipation.

Five entire minutes passed but then, a chime.


End file.
